


Bitter Cold

by JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is a Little Shit, Before Okumura’s palace, Best Friends, Character Study, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Massage, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sexual Tension, Smut, So no Haru, The Phantom Thieves are Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite/pseuds/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite
Summary: Massaging Ryuji is the best and worst thing you can do to yourself, you think.Or a.k.a Ryuji is a soft boi and you would do anything for him because you’re weak like that.
Relationships: Sakamoto Ryuji/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 231





	Bitter Cold

You notice it in the way he walks.

His steps are short, stiff, more of a shuffle than a stride. He’s hunched over more than he usually his, his shoulders up and around his ears. His lips are pressed in a thin line.

“Ryuji,” you say, stopping just before the doorway to your classroom.

In response, he stops as well, pivots with both eyebrows raised. You don’t fail to notice the way he flinches when he turns to you.

“Wassup Y/N?” he says, tone casual, but you can see the slight tension at the corners of his eyes, “Something on your mind?”

“Your leg’s hurting you, isn’t it?” you declare, never one to beat around the bush, and you know you hit the nail on the head when he suddenly grimaces in response.

“You noticed that, huh?” he says, a wry smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I always do,” you mumble, tone gentle as you reach up to touch his shoulder, slowly sliding your hand down to his upper arm.

At that, his smile softens at the edges, he doesn’t hold himself as tight. The arm you’re not touching drops from his head and finds it’s way into his pocket.

“It’s this _weather _ man. Effin’ rain!” he scoffs, jerking his head towards the windows behind you, “Always gets my leg achin’.” 

You suck in a breath through your teeth in sympathy. 

“I had a feeling something like this would happen,” you say, stepping back to rummage through your backpack, “That’s why I thought to grab this real quick!”

You hold up a bottle of almond oil and he cocks an eyebrow at it.

“Oooh! Is this why you stopped at the store on our way here?” he leans forward to get a closer look at the label, “What is that anyway, some type of bubble bath.....”

He trails off, voice quieting when he finally figures out what you’re holding. You watch how his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, how a soft blush rises to his cheeks. His eyes dart around as he tongues at his bottom lip.

“That, uh, that for me?” he questions, voice cracking a bit as he can’t quite hide the hopeful yet nervous look on his face.

“It is,” you respond, humor in your voice as you shake the bottle, “Got to get the Champ back in order again, right?”

The way he sucks in a breath as he looks up at the ceiling, hand back to his neck, has you pressing your lips together to keep from laughing.

(You still remember how he reacted to the first time you offered to massage his leg. How he sputtered and choked and flailed his arms, nearly fell out of his chair. How his face paled and then turned firetruck red in quick succession. 

The way his eyes had looked about ready to pop out of his head still made you laugh to this day.)

“You up for it or not?” you challenge, a cocky smile twisting your lips and he takes the bait, nodding his head as he grins down at you.

“Ahhh, you spoil me, y’know that?” he chuckles, good-naturedly cuffing your arm with his fist and you giggle, “Don’t know what I would do without ya.” 

“Probably be lost,” you quip back, poking him in the chest and he catches your hand, yanking you forward to ruffle your hair.

“Ain’t that the truth!” he says, and the way he looks down at you, all shining eyes and cocked eyebrows and wide smile, makes your breath catch in your throat, your heart stutter in your chest. 

(You would do anything for him if he kept looking at you like that.)

“What are best friends for?” you say, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. The smile on your face is a touch too big.

Ryuji just swings his arm around your shoulders and gives you a squeeze, rubs at your head once more with his knuckles. He begins to steer you into the classroom with a pep in his step. 

(You’re incredibly grateful right now of how dense he is.)

“Now, c’mon! Let’s get in class before teach’ decides to use us for target practice!” he says, leading the both of you to your desks before he dramatically throws himself into his chair, wincing as he does so, “Akira’s the only one who can dodge his chalk, but that’s our leader for ya! Don’t know how he does it though....”

You shrug because you honestly don’t know how he does it either. Joker is an enigma if you ever saw one, equal parts quiet and dramatic, snarky and respectful, kind and fierce. You don’t think you can ever figure him out, even if you got to know him as long as you’ve known Ryuji. But, he was their leader through and through and you would follow him to the ends of the earth, just like you know everybody else will.

(Though your teammates might not be biologically related, you know that your bond runs deep within their veins like blood. And if that doesn’t make them a family, then you don’t know what will.)

Just when your about to make a joke about Akira’s glasses, Mr. Ushimaru comes in and tells everybody to quiet down. Ryuji turns his hand up in a “what can you do?” gesture before he turns to face the front of the classroom. 

As the teacher begins to talk, you find yourself drifting from the lecture, twirling your pen and gazing around the room. Your eyes eventually find themselves on Ryuji, like they can’t help but be drawn to him like moths to a flame and your pulse speeds up a little as you gaze at him.

He wants to leave, you notice. It’s in the way his hand and foot tap an irregular beat, the way he keeps glancing at the clock as he wiggles in his seat. His jaw is a sharp line against the side of his face as he clenches and unclenches his jaw, his left leg jittering with nerves.

Even impatient like this, you think he looks handsome. Everything about him is _distinct_, from his strong neck to his long pointy nose to his short eyebrows. Even during battle, when he curls his upper lip over his teeth and rears his arm back to swing that pipe of his, sweat pouring down his face as he yells at the top of his lungs at a shadow, that’s all  _ Ryuji_.

All of that is undeniably _him_ and _him_ alone. 

(The way he smirks big and razor-edged after a win, eyes bright and manic, makes you weak at the knees.)

He turns his head and your eyes meet for a few long seconds, you giving a sheepish smile, before he quickly turns to the front again, his back tense. You can see that the tips of his ears are turning pink and the realization creeps down slow to you like molasses, until it makes you sit up straight and stare at him with wide eyes when it finally hits you. 

He wants to leave so bad because of  _you._ Because he can’t wait for you to get your hands on him, to get your fingers in deep and take all his pain away. To make him feel _good_. 

You let out a long breath, slowly flex your fingers. You tell yourself that this is the last class of the day, that you can make it through. 

(You try not to think of him all laid out and pliant, sighing as you run your knuckles up his calf.)

It feels like an eternity before the bell rings and you get up embarrassingly fast when it does, your chair almost tipping from your ascent. It reassures you a bit when you see that Ryuji is standing as well, hastily shoving things into his backpack. When he sees you looking, he slows down and nonchalantly rearranges his notebooks. 

You turn your head to hide your smile.

When you’re both packed up and ready, you head out into hallway, steadily making your way out of the building. On the way there you see Ann and Akira.

“Ah, there you are! We were just looking for you two!” she exclaims, giving an enthusiastic and cute wave, while Akira merely lifts his hand up with a smile, “Me and Akira were going to see a movie with the rest of the gang and we wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us.”

You and Ryuji look at each other with apologetic grimaces. 

“Ahh, sorry guys,” Ryuji says, rubbing at the back of his head while you nod in agreement, “We already have plans.”

“We would really like to go,” you say and it’s the truth, “But, maybe next time?”

Ann waves you off with a flap of her hand.

“It’s no problem! We’ll just try again for another time,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder while Akira nods, shrugging with his hands in his pockets, “What are you guys doing anyway?”

You smile at that and playfully smack at Ryuji’s arm, who wiggles away with a “Hey!”.

“It’s raining, so the Captain isn’t feeling 100 percent,” you say, while Ryuji fake pouts and rubs at his bicep, “So he needs my magic fingers to fix him up again.”

Ann looks a bit confused before her eyes widen and she raises a hand to her mouth with a gasp. Akira looks on with a slight tilt to his head, one eyebrow cocked.

“Oh god, I’m _so_ sorry Ryuji!” she exclaims, eyebrows scrunched as she frowns, “I should’ve noticed earlier, I’m such a bad friend.”

There’s a pause before Ryuji steps closer to her with a shake of his head, laying a gentle hand on her hair. One side of his mouth is up in a lazy grin.

“Ahh, don’t worry about it! A lot of crazy shits’ been goin’ on these past few months,” he says and you nod rather aggressively in agreement, never one to see your friends sad, “I almost forgot m’self until the weather hits and reminds me!”

He then leans forward with a smirk.

“Plus, I know those pigtails o’ yours pull a _little_ too hard on your brain,” he gleefully says, and flicks a finger on her forehead, cackling when she protests and swats at him with her hand.

“_Jeez_, that’s what I get for being concerned about you,” she mumbles, sounding so _petulant_ that you can’t help but to laugh too. You watch the corners of her mouth twitch as she tries not to grin.

When you turn to Akira, you see him standing with a kind smile on his face. But, he looks somewhat perplexed as well, a hand under his chin as he peers at Ryuji.You stare at him as well until the realization hits you like a freight train.

“_Oh_, that’s _right_,” you exclaim, getting everybody’s attention as you smack your fist into your hand, “Akira doesn’t  _ know_.”

With everything that has happened, you forget that Akira has only just joined your group of friends, that he doesn’t know Ryuji as long as you and Ann do. 

(But it feels as if you’ve know everyone since _forever_ , the trust you have in each-other born from the result of corrupt adults and burning tears. You would put your life on the line for anyone of them, just like you know that they will do for you.

To be a Phantom Thief is to break yourself open and let all the ugly things, all the things that you keep hidden away, that even you _yourself_ don't want to see, it is to let that ooze out from between your fingers like blood. To let your teammates see you at your worst and at your best and trust that they will pick up the pieces and make you whole again.)

“Shit, she’s right,” Ryuji says, wrapping his arm around Akira’s shoulders, “Why didn’t ya say something, buddy?”

Akira shrugs, a small smile twisting his lips.

“I thought I could figure it out,” he admits, shrugging again.

Ann shakes her head in fond exasperation. 

“I know you’re a good listener and all,” she starts, throwing her hands up, “And you don’t talk all that much, but you gotta ask about some things too!”

Akira chuckles at that and lifts a hand up like he’s hopeless. Ann rolls her eyes.

“Go on Ryuji,” you say, “Tell him what’s up.”

Ryuji laughs a bit nervously, letting go of Akira to rub at the back of his neck.

“It’s nothin’ really,” he says, carelessly turning his hand around in a circle, “Since Kamoshida broke my leg, the rain really likes to fuck with it. Makes my thigh ache somethin’ fierce.”

Akira looks down at the thigh in question and the confusion on his face clears up. He actually looks a bit angry now, lips pressed together tightly.

“It’s okay, buddy!” Ryuji says, patting Akira’s back, “We took down that bastard and that’s all that matters!”

He jerks his thumb to point at you.

“Plus, I have Y/N here to fix me up like always!” he says, smile bright and wide.

Akira then looks at you, tilting his head.

“...Magic fingers?” he questions, sounding amused as he raises an eyebrow at you and you blush a bit, shuffling your feet.

“Of _course_ that's what you ask,” you mumble and he snickers in response.

“But _oh man_, she totally _does_ have magic fingers,” Ryuji sighs, moving over to you to lean against your form and you can’t help the grin that stretches your lips at his tone, “It could the shittiest day, cold and rainin’ like no tomorrow and she’ll have my leg workin’ just like new again! That’s our support for ya!”

Akira looks at him, mouth twitching and you just _know_ he’s going to say something snarky.

“Oh really,” he says slowly, in that perfect deadpan of his, “Sounds like you really like it when she has her hands all over you.”

“Akira!” Ann admonishes with a gasp.

Akira just has the audacity to smile sweetly.

You look up at the ceiling helplessly while Ryuji sputters, sounding like he’s dying. You don’t have to see his face to know it’s burning scarlet right now.

“S-Shaddup man!” Ryuji whines, smushing Akira’s face with his hand, who just grabs his wrist and laughs, “Why you gotta say it like that?!” 

“Oh, look at the time!” Ann suddenly exclaims, peering down at her phone, “We have to go now if we don’t wanna be late!”

Ryuji reluctantly lets go of Akira with a shove as you weakly wave your goodbye.

“Bye guys!” she says, dragging a smirking Akira by the arm, “See you tomorrow!”

“Have fun,” Akira says, tone light with humor and you and Ryuji flip him off. 

You can hear his laughter even as they turn the corner and disappear.

“...Our leader is something else, huh?” you mutter, wiping down your face as Ryuji bobs his head in a show of unity.

“Ahhh, whateva!” Ryuji says, furiously scrubbing at his hair, “Let’s just go already!”

You both make your way to the exit, briefly stopping so Ryuji can open his umbrella. You step in close to avoid the rain.

(Your own umbrella hangs from your hand, not acknowledged.)

“So my house or yours?” Ryuji asks, and you notice the way he tries to hide the way he limps, smile strained at the corners.

Stepping outside must be aggravating his injury even more, you realize. 

“I was thinking my house,” you say, trying for casual as your heart rate kicks up a notch, hiding your sweaty hands in your pockets, “My parents are out on a business trip and won’t be home till’ the day after tomorrow.”

Your shoulder gets hit with rain as Ryuji misses a step, coughing as he fumbles to set the umbrella back in position.

“F-for real?!” Ryuji blurts, blinking down at you with wide eyes, a flush staining his cheeks.

You shrug, nonchalant, even as the back of your neck feels hot.

“Yeah, so we don’t have to worry about interruptions or having to rush,” you say quietly, even though you don’t know why you do, with the rain pounding around you and almost drowning out your voice, “It’ll just be me and you.”

His adam’s apple bobs a couple of times as he stares at you, chest still like he’s holding his breath. You can’t feel the chill in the air anymore, your nerves tingling as you watch how his teeth catches at his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he finally says, and it sounds like his throat is squeezing the word, his tongue lightning-quick as it swipes at his lip, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

You take in a shuddering breath, nodding like you can’t hear your heart in your ears.

“Then let’s go,” you whisper, stepping up to him.

You reach for the hand he’s using to hold the umbrella, don’t break eye contact as you slowly raise it between you two so that it’s properly covering you again. This close, you can see how his pupils widen, how his nostrils flare. You feel how he shudders when you let go of his hand, letting your fingers drag on the way down.

(Alarm bells are ringing in your head, just as jarring as when a shadow spots you. You’re playing with fire, the both of you. 

And you don’t know if there’s an escape route out.)

You step back with a weak smile, already turning around to continue walking. Ryuji follows you like he doesn’t even think about it.

(And what is a Phantom Thief, if you don’t trust your teammate to guide you through peril?)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Persona 5 fan fiction so I’m still getting a feel for the characters lol I also like how this started off as an excuse to write about Ryuji getting a massage and it turned into fluffy feeling and team bonding.


End file.
